Been a while since I picked up my pen.
Didn't have an idea of when
I'd find inspiration or the need to write
Words that I use as weapons to fight.
I guess I'm just pissed at the taking of life.
Beautiful young men gone in the flash of a knife.
Suddenly the media is full of experts,
You know, white middle class fools who spurt
Opinions left, right and centre.
Politicians follow the same old agenda
Pleasing majority voters and mandates
Calling for national service and out of touch debates.
The only reason the press are vexed...
Is everyone's scared white middle England is next.
Worried at the prospect that little Nigel and Penelope
Might listen to hip hop and end up in casualty.
Let me add my Slo twist to the story,
And wind back so called care in society
To times when middle classes didn't want to know.
Life back then was about being able to show
That tea rooms were for those who aspired to be.
That's right, this is total recall on history.
The compassionate loved their sugar and tea
Enough to shackle millions into slavery.
Not even a blind eye tried to look and reason
With the African holocaust going on in the Caribbean.
So beware of the caring.
On apparent sleeve wearing
Sits inherited profits of enslavement, rape and death.
And now they point fingers at young mens' last breaths,
Ignoring the legacies they sowed
When Africa's blood flowed.
Blue uniforms in armored waistcoats,
An institutionalised gang that gloats.
Given power that goes unchecked.
Part of the problem, but they're supposed to protect.
Like ants, they become a cloned collective
That takes on the prejudices from a eurocentric perspective.
Their policy on the beat born from the same fear,
That hysterically germinates between the ears
Of white middle England...
Self-proclaimed right middle England.
Politicians pack out the House of Commons
To discuss their pay and similar problems,
But the debate on the murder of youth,
Saw Parliament empty...there lies the truth.
More lies than truth.
So dies our youth.
Victims from a sharp blade
Poisoned by deadly white shade.
On the handle, embedded DNA imprints
From a nation's guilty finger prints